


Our Divinest Senses -Alternative Ending

by DaisyFairy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Puzzles, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-13 07:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15358857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyFairy/pseuds/DaisyFairy
Summary: This work is an alternative ending for @Chriscalledmesweetie'sDivinest Senses Series, which has been left unfinished and readers are invited to write their own ending.After being sectioned, John and Sherlock met for the first time when they were sentenced to six months as the only residents of a secret government facility on one of the uninhabited Shetland Islands. Forced to work together to play a series of elaborate games set up by Mycroft, they gradually became friends, and then lovers. Now, rather than continuing to attempt to escape, they have decided to use this time as an all-expense-paid Sex Holiday.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChrisCalledMeSweetie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisCalledMeSweetie/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Divinest Sense](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6627280) by [ChrisCalledMeSweetie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisCalledMeSweetie/pseuds/ChrisCalledMeSweetie). 
  * Inspired by [Our Divinest Senses](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7820518) by [ChrisCalledMeSweetie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisCalledMeSweetie/pseuds/ChrisCalledMeSweetie). 



> This really won't make any sense if you haven't read the series, so please go and read it, leave @Chriscalledmesweetie all the kudos and comments she deserves, and then head back here to see my take on the ending.

_*Back in the bedroom, John turned the combination lock to read SPINALIRRITATION. To his delight, it opened, revealing a shallow compartment in the bottom of the drawer. John removed the manilla envelope it contained._

_“What do you think is in here?” he asked.*_

 

John opened the envelope eagerly, but as he started to pull the thick sheaf of paper out he saw the front page. 

**Dr. John H Watson  
Medical Records**

He felt a cold spike of dread shoot through him. This file would contain everything, all of his secrets, the reasons for him being committed. He couldn’t bear the thought of being so exposed, so vulnerable, in front of Sherlock. He couldn’t help worrying that Sherlock would see him as weak, or broken, or even worse pity him. He shoved the papers back into the envelope before Sherlock had a chance to look at them and tried very hard to control his breathing, to remain calm.

“Let’s look at this later.” he said with false nonchalance, dropping the envelope back into the drawer and closing the lid. 

Sherlock looked at him in confusion but before he could say anything John continued, “I feel like some fresh air, let’s go for a walk.” 

He really did need fresh air, he suddenly felt hemmed in, confined, the beginnings of panic were prickling at the edges of his mind and he wanted to see the sky and the sea.

Sherlock nodded uncertainly, his eyes lingered on the drawer hiding John’s secret, but he didn’t say anything as they left the bedroom and made their way outside. 

*****

As soon as John saw the blue sky with wispy white clouds scattered high above, and felt the warm sun on his skin a weight lifted, his panic dissolving away. Freedom. He smiled to himself, trapped on an island by Sherlock’s maniac of a brother, but he felt freer now than he had since the bullet slammed into his shoulder.

John caught Sherlock staring at him with narrowed eyes, understandably confused about their sudden excursion and now John smiling like a loon. John shrugged and entwined their fingers and giving Sherlock’s hand a gentle squeeze. 

“Walk with me?” he asked gently.

“Of course.” Sherlock murmured and lead the way towards the outer wall.

They walked near the electified fence all of the way around the island in silence. John watched the way that the sun, sinking lower now, cast long shadows on the ground and the clouds were beginning to tinge with oranges and pinks around the edges. He watched the grass and heather moving in the slight breeze, and the seabirds wheeling overhead. But mostly he watched Sherlock. The man he had known for so little time really, but it felt like forever. Watched the planes of his face, the shadows falling differently as they changed direction, watched the way his hair moved in the wind, and thought that he looked so much healthier than when they first met. He had rounded out, not that he was overweight, far from it, but he seemed less bony, his skin seemed to have a healthy glow, and he seemed….happy, if still a bit confused about the way today was going.

About halfway around the island Sherlock spotted something ahead of them and turned to John in excitement, a huge honest grin on his face and dragged John over to see. In amongst the wildflowers Sherlock pointed out a steady stream of bees emerging from and disappearing into a small hole in the ground at the base of a large gorse bush. His eyes lit up as he spouted facts about the bees and giggled when one landed on his nose. That was when John knew, he was irretrievably in love with this man and he didn’t want any secrets between them. He would show Sherlock his records, and tell him why he had been locked away. 

By the time Sherlock had finished his supply of bee facts the sun was almost touching the boundary wall. They made their way back to a spot just a few minutes away from the compound door and sat on a mound of grass amongst the sandy clifftop soil to watch the stars come out. They sat side by side with arms slung around each others waists and John’s head resting on Sherlock shoulder. John had a fleeting thought that they fit together perfectly, almost as if they were made for each other.

After a minute or two Sherlock broke the silence, “Why don't you want me to see what's in the envelope?”

Johns resolve crumbled, he wanted to share it, but this moment was too perfect to ruin, he stumbled over his words as he replied, “I.. I'm just not ready to talk about it. Please. Can you trust me?”

Sherlock turned and smiled at him. “Of course I trust you. You’ll show me later? When you're ready?”

Blinking back a few tears that had formed in his eyes John nodded. “Yeah, just, not yet.”

“Ok.” Sherlock linked their fingers and tipped his head up to the sky basking in the last of the day's sunshine. Giving John's hand a squeeze he said "Now we need to find something else to do. Do you know something we haven't tried?"

John smiled gratefully "No, what?"

"We’ve never had sex outside. Shall we change that?"

John looked around dubiously. "You checked the bedroom for cameras, but out here there could be cameras anywhere."

Sherlock caressed John's hip absently as he replied "Around the door and fence probably. It is unlikely every inch of the island is covered."

John could feel himself relaxing into the steady pressure against his hip, leaning more into Sherlock he protested weakly. "You can't be sure though. Your brother could be watching us right now."

"Then he can either turn off his surveillance equipment or prepare to be scarred for life." Sherlock kissed John hard, pressing him back into the soft ground. 

"What are you thinking?" John gasped when he was released from the kiss.

“Let's just see where the mood takes us.” Sherlock said, slipping his nimble fingers up under John's shirt and pushing his thigh in-between John's legs.

John pushed his hand up under Sherlock’s shirt in return and ran his hands up Sherlock’s back, pulling him closer.

They kissed in a bed of wildflowers, the only sounds were the gentle lapping of waves against the cliffs, the buzzing of bees and the occasional call of a seabird. 

Very soon those sounds were accompanied by soft moans as things got more heated. John needed to feel more of Sherlock’s skin against him and pushed him back just enough strip him of his shirt. He tried to remove his own, but he only managed to get the buttons undone when Sherlock was on him, kissing his jaw, caressing his chest and gently pinching his nipples to make him gasp.

All efforts to protest were abandoned when Sherlock’s hand slipped lower and tackled Johns fly to reach inside his pants. Johns breath caught as Sherlock’s fingertips brushed against his rapidly hardening cock.

John felt a sudden surge of adrenaline and flipped Sherlock onto his back. Kissing Sherlock almost desperately John shoved his trousers and pants down far enough to free himself and then did the same to Sherlock’s.

He lowered himself on top of Sherlock and clung to him as they rubbed together. Slightly too rough, but he couldn'tt even imagine leaving to fetch the lube. 

Their cocks aligned as John ground their hips together, and Sherlock’s fingers gripping his hips almost painfully hard told him all he needed to know.

They quickly found a rhythm, hips bucking and grinding and their nerves singing. Sherlock below him was the only thing that existed and kisses soon gave way to panting as the air seemed too thin.

John felt his climax build, a pressure deep inside, and suddenly burst, his muscles spasming over and over, then a few aftershocks and he was done.

He felt like he was floating, he rolled to the side to try to catch his breath. 

Sherlock cried out in frustration his eyes were wild and his hips were bucking up to try to find friction against a body that was no longer there. 

John kissed his shoulder in apology and slicked his hand with the come which was decorating Sherlock’s stomach and chest. He closed it around Sherlock’s cock, and the wail that Sherlock made in response made John very glad they were the only people on the island. Sherlock fucked up into his hand and less than a minute later he was arching up off of the ground and adding to the mess on his stomach.

They each took a moment to gather their senses, then John cuddled up to Sherlock and whispered in his ear, “I love you.”

Sherlock turned his sleepy gaze onto him and murmured “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have three chapters written, and the fourth is about 75% done, so I'm planning on publishing these fairly quickly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An important conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In celebration of making some progress on the last chapter I decided to publish chapter 2 today. Even if that progress involves John derailing my plot with his insatiable appetites ;-)

The following morning John awoke in their bedroom and took in the sight of Sherlock snuggled into the sheets next to him. His face lax in sleep and his hair a riot, John thought he looked adorable. He took a deep breath and decided, this was the time, he was ready.

He pulled the thick envelope out from the drawer they were hidden in and gently kissed Sherlock’s cheek to wake him.

As Sherlock blinked sleepily John handed him the documents. Sherlock smiled up at him and shifted in the bed to sit up, leaning against the headboard.

He read the files while John waited nervously. He couldn’t stand the tension so sat stiffly on the edge of the bed and tried to read the book from his nightstand, but just found himself going over the same paragraph again and again without taking anything in.

Eventually Sherlock dropped the stack of papers into his lap, “As I expected, PTSD, suicidal thoughts, trust issues, nightmares, borderline abusive childhood, you are potentially a danger to the public. Nothing I hadn’t already worked out.”

John was totally non-plused, “But, but, really? You already knew?”

“Of course I did, maybe not every detail, but I had the general idea.”

John gingerly climbed back into the bed and laid a tentative hand on Sherlock’s thigh, he asked quietly, “Don’t you think I’m…broken or…weak?”

Sherlock scoffed, “After your experiences? No. Soldier with traumatic discharge, it’s a surprise it hasn’t affected you more.”

John felt a weight lift from his chest, he gave Sherlock’s thigh a quick squeeze, “I’m better now though, you don’t need to worry about me.”

Sherlock was quick to correct him, “Of course you aren’t ‘better'. Massively improved I grant you, but I saw how you reacted when I had that little mishap in the lab, and although you aren’t violent, you are far from a restful sleeper. But I am more than willing to help with the rest of your recovery.” He paused for a second, then shuffled the papers and handed half of them back to John. “Which brings us to this.”

John read the front page:

**Mr. W. Sherlock S. Holmes  
Medical Records.**

He should have realised that it wouldn’t just be him baring all, but he had been so caught up worrying about his own records he hadn’t given a thought to whether Sherlock’s would be in there too.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself John began to read. He already knew about the drugs, its hard to hide the track scars when you’ve been so intimate, but reading about the three near fatal overdoses hurt and made his eyes sting with tears.

“Was it on purpose?” he asked gently.

Sherlock threw himself back, lying across the bed with his head hanging off of the edge. “Mm, not exactly, but then I wasn’t really taking steps to ensure it didn’t happen.”

John gulped back a sob, “But now?”

“I’ve come to realise life can be more fun than the alternative, even without chemical enhancement. Not that the craving is gone as such, but keeping my brain active with those cases is helping, and maybe relationships aren’t as tedious as I previously believed.” He lifted his head briefly to flash John a massive grin which John found himself echoing.

“So, we’re ok?” John asked, hardly daring to believe how well this had gone.

“Yeah, we’re ok. We’re both a mess, but we can help each other to do better. Just never tell my brother that this insane puzzle island was a good idea.”

John chuckled, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He picked the envelope up off of the bed to throw it aside when something fell out onto the duvet.

“Ah, another clue from my dear brother.” Sherlock said picking the item up. He turned it so that John could see that it was a ‘Advance to Go' card from Monopoly.

They spent a few minutes examining it for clues until John gave up, “It’s just a normal Monopoly Chance card. What does it mean?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think it could mean??
> 
> Hopefully I will be able to publish the next chapter by the weekend and all will be revealed


	3. Chapter 3

After a few more minutes of twisting the card this way and that Sherlock too conceded that as far as he could see it was a normal monopoly card.

Deciding that the puzzle could wait they took a quick shower together to wash away the sand that had managed to find it’s way into some very inconvenient places. However once that problem was dealt with they had the rather more fun problem of both being naked and slippery so their quick shower soon became a very long and loud shower with a very happy ending.

After such an eventful morning John insisted on making breakfast before they tackled their latest mystery, which Sherlock reluctantly agreed to.

Once they were eventually fed and dressed they sat down for another attempt at their new puzzle.

“So, Monopoly. Does that mean anything special to you?” John asked.

“No, except that Mycroft loved showing his megalomanical tendencies even as a child and would cheat mercilessly to win.”

John chuckled at the petulant expression this memory had prompted. “OK. Me neither, no special memories or anything. Maybe we should check the games cupboard, I’m sure a saw Monopoly in there. The rest of the clue could be in the box.”

They soon found a rather battered looking copy of the game in the back of the cupboard.

“This looks like the one that we played as children.” Sherlock turned the box over and found a note scrawled in a childish hand on the bottom which read ‘Mycroft is a fat cheater!’

John giggled and in the face of this cuteness had to hug Sherlock for a minute before he could do anything else.

When he was released Sherlock emptied the box out onto the table and sifted through the contents. After half an hour nothing unusual had been discovered other than that young Sherlock had a penchant for graffiti and had altered several of the cards, mostly to insult his brother. 

John came across the ‘It’s your birthday, collect £10 from each player’ card, upon which Sherlock had changed 'your' to ‘Mycroft’s’ and ‘£10’ to ‘cake'. He smiled and showed it to Sherlock, “This one is nice, giving him cake on his birthday.”

Sherlock giggled, “No, he hated it. He always hated me pointing out his indecent obsession with cake. Still does, maybe I’ll send him a huge one when we get out of here to ‘thank' him for the experience.”

John grinned and replaced the card in the box, then sat back in his seat with a sigh, “I don’t think it’s here.”

Sherlock huffed and dropped the Monopoly money he was examining onto the table, “You’re right, this isn’t getting us anywhere. Do you fancy a game though?”

John narrowed his eyes in determination, “You’re on, but no cheating, and I’m the Top Hat.”

Xxxxx

Several hours later John had to admit defeat, he’d been limping through the game for a while living on bank loans and the meager earnings from his few properties, but hunger prompted him to put himself out of his misery.

“Fine, you win. You tidy up and I’ll get some lunch?”

Sherlock’s eyes sparkled in triumph, but he managed to stop himself from gloating as he packed everything away into the box. His mind turned back to the mystery of the 'Advance to Go' card as he did so, and suddenly something clicked and he realised the solution.

“John! John! I know what it means.” he followed John into the kitchen and continued, “We were thinking of it as telling us to look at the Monopoly game, but it's the actual card that’s important. ‘Advance to Go'.”

John set the butter knife in his hand down onto the counter and sat on one of the kitchen chairs. “I don’t get it. Where are we meant to advance to?”

“Go. Or in our case return to Go. The start point of the game. If this island is a game we need to return to the start..”

John interrupted, “Our original rooms, Where we first woke up.”

Sherlock excitedly came over and hugged him, “Exactly, come on, lets go.” He tried to drag John out of the kitchen but he resisted.

“No, we need to eat. Lunch first, then we can go.”

Sherlock frowned at him but his stomach betrayed him by rumbling loudly and they both looked down at it and laughed.

“You’ve got me far too used to eating regularly. Fine, we’ll have lunch first.” Sherlock said in mock annoyance.

John smiled, stood up and kissed him until the frown melted away, then a little longer….just in case.

XXxX

After the quickest lunch Sherlock could get away with they set off for the trip back to their original set of rooms. 

Aside from a couple of trips to collect all of their belongings they hadn’t been back since they found this side of the compound, which was more like a home rather than the original prison type cells they were confined to.

The return trip was much easier than the first time they made their way through the maze like warehouse in the dark. As it turned out the light switch for the massive space was located in their new living quarters, so it was a simple matter to walk between the storage units of food without having to hold hands to prevent losing each other. Of course the fact that they didn’t need to hold hands didn’t stop them from doing exactly that.

They made their way through the doors with their twin eye scanners, back to the original corridor where they first met. John had a little nostalgic moment and squeezed Sherlock’s hand, looking up he could have sworn he saw a tear glittering in Sherlock’s eye, but decided not to mention it.

John asked, “Where now? We both started in different rooms.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, let’s each check our own rooms.”

They used the eye scanners on their respective doors and John went into the room where this whole thing started.

Everything looked exactly as he remembered. A plain room with a simple bed and not much else, he was just about to start a closer examination when Sherlock hammered on his door and called through it, “Come and see what I found!”

Taking a brief glance around the room and still seeing nothing out of place John opened his door and found himself being dragged across the hallway into Sherlock’s room.

The room was almost a perfect mirror for his own. Almost that is apart from a panel on the far wall that had slid back to reveal another pair of the familiar eye scanners.

“That wasn’t like that before?”

Sherlock scoffed, “No, of course not. I would have told you about it when we were here if it was.”

“Yeah, ok. Was it just like this when you came in?”

“Yes. Come on,” Sherlock said bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I need your eyeballs.”

John went over to the scanner but hesitated, “How did it move then, if we’re the only ones here?”

Sherlock huffed, but examined the panel, finding that it had slid back into the wall and now couldn’t be pulled back out again. “Looks like it’s motorised. Either someone triggered it remotely when they saw us solve the clue, or it was automatic, maybe programmed to open when we put the correct solution into the combination lock and found the medical documents.”

John felt a little better, the thought of someone sneaking around what he had come to think of as their home had been a bit disturbing. He leant forwards and placed his eye against the scanner while Sherlock did the same on the other side.

As soon as the scan was completed a smaller section of the wall between the scanners slid open to reveal a compartment with a large roll of paper inside. Sherlock pulled it out and unrolled it on the floor, it took up most of the space in the small room.

It took John a second to realise what he was looking at, “Blueprints? It looks like the floor plan for this building. What are we supposed to do with this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid the last chapter isn't finished yet, but is well underway so hopefully not too long to wait for the solution to this one.
> 
> So, blueprints. Where do you think this is going?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here! It's finally complete *happy dance* :-D

Sherlock tilted his head to the side, examining the blueprints. He knelt on the floor to look closer and after a few seconds John joined him. 

They poured over the diagram together for quarter of an hour until John got bored. As far as he could see everything on the paper matched the compound that they had been living in together for the last few weeks, with no obvious clues or “X marks the spot”s to pursue.

As his attention wandered he found it slipping more and more towards the vision of Sherlock on his hands and knees, or increasingly elbows and knees with his perfect, round, gorgeous arse bobbing around in a very enticing fashion. 

He climbed up off of the floor and sat on the bunk to watch Sherlock work. His focus, single-minded determination to wring every detail out of the clue they had been given was admirable, the cute way his brow furrowed as he looked closer was gorgeous and yet, and yet….there was that arse again, tight and firm and oh so touchable.

Johns hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they reached out. He made contact and Sherlock gave a full body shudder, but still continued to trace his fingertips over the outlines of the building on the plans.

John gave those globes a gentle squeeze and then abandoned his prize to run his hands up Sherlock’s back. Kneeling behind him he draped himself over Sherlock’s back and brought his arms around to hug him. He kissed up Sherlock’s spine through his shirt, then his shoulder blades and then the bare skin of his neck eliciting another shudder from the man beneath him.

Moving forward to reach Sherlock’s jaw made his rapidly hardening cock press up against Sherlock’s thigh and he gasped, then whispered into Sherlock’s ear, “I need you. Right now!”

“I’m working.” Sherlock replied breathlessly.

“Mhmm, is that so?” John ran one hand down Sherlock’s chest, and lower, lower, until he could fondle what turned out to be a very hard and substantial bulge in Sherlock’s trousers.

“Uh, you, oh Joooohn.” Sherlock rumbled as the fondling became more of a rub, up and down. Sherlock’s arms shook under the weight of both men, and threatened to tip him face first onto the floor.

“Bed! Now!” John growled, yanking Sherlock back against him.

A quick scrabble onto the narrow cot, some undignified wriggling to free themselves of unnecessary clothing, and a grateful sigh of relief when Sherlock produced a small bottle of lube that he had stashed in his trouser pocket after the unfortunate lack of lubrication on their recent al fresco adventure. 

Then there were slick tongues sliding together, and then, then, Sherlock back on his hands and knees and that gorgeous arse, only this time completely bare, round and pale and biteable? Was it biteable? John tested his theory and discovered it to be absolutely delicious, as were the noises Sherlock made in response. A brief taste at Sherlock’s centre and John couldn’t wait any longer. 

He slicked himself and carefully pushed inside, forcing himself against all instincts to stay slow. Once fully seated he was going to wait, to allow Sherlock time to adjust, but Sherlock was pushing back, trying to get more, and moaning desperately, pleading under his breath “More! Now! Please! Pleeeease!”

Well, who was John Watson to deny him? 

After that everything was a bit of a blur. 

They moved together frantically, Sherlock desperate for more, and John desperate to give it to him.

It was hard, and fast, and the metal cot gave some alarming creaks as it was tested far beyond its design limits. Then, as suddenly as they began, it was over and they both came hard enough to see stars.

In the aftermath they collapsed together onto the soiled sheets and just let their brains reset before they tried anything complicated like speech or movement.

Eventually Sherlock broke the silence with a groan, “Urgh! Let me up, I’m in the wet patch.”

John, who was laying mostly on top of him, simply burrowed further into the back of Sherlock’s neck and grumbled, “John Watson isn’t in right now, please try again later.”

Sherlock sighed and gave in, letting himself go limp and very quickly falling asleep.

XXxX

Over the course of the following week Sherlock and John went over the blueprints so many times that John started dreaming about them. Dreams in blue and white, with rulers and measuring tapes dancing around him.

Still, despite measuring every room, right down to the electrical outlets, everything in the compound matched the blueprints precisely. There were no secret compartments marked on the diagram that they hadn’t already found, and nothing to indicate what they where supposed to do with this information.

John lost enthusiasm for the new clue after only a few days, but continued to follow Sherlock around, holding the end of the tape measure and carrying the increasingly dog-eared blueprints from room to room.

By the seventh day everything had been measured, and Sherlock’s attention was drifting back to his cold cases. They pinned the chart to the wall and decided to leave it up in case inspiration struck.

During the next seven days Sherlock solved two cases, writing the names of the perpetrators down carefully and filing them away until such time as they could be passed on to the police.

John spent his days reading, cooking and tempting Sherlock away from his work for a board game or a more adult game with some of the “toys” in their bedroom. He truly couldn’t imagine being happier.

On the fifteenth day after the discovery of the blueprints John asked Sherlock to open the outside door with him so that he could go for a walk while Sherlock carried out an experiment in his lab. He put a chair in the entrance to keep the door open so that he could get back in without Sherlock and set off.

As he walked John stopped frequently to gather wildflowers. The whole point of this excursion was to collect flowers so that he could scatter them across their bed to surprise Sherlock that evening.  
As he was walking John found himself happily surveilling the landscape, their landscape, the island that had become their entire world. 

Suddenly something struck him, something was wrong, and John realised the error that they had made with the blueprints. They had been meticulous with the interior of the building, but hadn’t even thought to check the exterior. The outline of the building didn’t match the schematics that were burned into his brain.

Dropping his flowers John moved closer and found a rectangular protuberance about the size of a large walk in cupboard extending from the side of the building. This section did not correspond to any part of the building on the inside, or anything on the blueprints.  
He felt the wall with his fingertips and found a small panel that slid across to reveal two iris scanners and on close examination realised that there was a concealed door in the wall.

As soon as he understood what he had found John ran back at a sprint to get Sherlock so that they could open the new door.

 

Xxx

It took a few minutes for Sherlock to leave his experiment in a safe way so that nothing would explode or catch fire, but once that was done he followed eagerly, muttering to himself about how stupid he had been to not check the outside of the building. 

They presented their eyes to the scanners, and just as with all of the others the door sprung open instantly. Inside there was a small room with fluorescent lights set into the ceiling that came on when the door opened. The only thing in the room was the top of a spiral staircase that led down into the dark. 

Sherlock beamed and gave John a quick kiss, “You solved it! Well done.” He indicated the stairs, “Shall we?”

John took one more look around the empty room, checking for any further instructions, and shrugged. “I suppose that's what we’re meant to do.” 

He reached for Sherlock's hand and held tight as they approached the dark hole in the floor. They carefully started down the stairs, and found that motion sensors made lights come on as they descended into the bedrock, the walls became rough hewn and damp as they went lower. Any sense of claustrophobia was dispelled by the increasingly strong scent of the sea, and the strong breeze that was rushing past them up the staircase. 

At the bottom they found themselves in a rough tunnel, just high enough for Sherlock to stand, with a sandy floor and wires running along the side to connect light outlets on the walls. They followed the tunnel and soon came to the opening set about a meter up in the cliff face above a small cove. The small sandy shore was dotted with shells and driftwood and was being licked by waves. A line of seaweed showed that at high tide the entire beach would be covered.

There was a bright red box bolted to the wall near the entrance of the tunnel. The size of a large briefcase, it appeared to be waterproof with a large plastic latch.

Sherlock eagerly moved to open the box, but John held him back, “No, wait. Can we go to the beach before we open that?”

Sherlock's lips twitched in amusement, “If we must.” He said, feigning nonchalance, but he seemed just as eager as John when they scrambled down the cliff face to the sandy beach below. 

They stood hand in hand and looked out on the horizon that they hadn’t seen for so long, the sky meeting the sea in a huge arc. It felt good to feel the sea spray hit their faces. John trailed his fingers into the water, “Cold. Very cold. I don’t think we’d get far swimming for it.”

Sherlock gestured to the empty sea, “There doesn’t appear to be anywhere to swim to in any case. Shall we open our next clue now?”

John picked up a sea shell and rubbed his fingers over the edges that had been softened by months in the water. “Yeah, come on then.”  
They climbed back up to the tunnel, Sherlock entered first and got up easily, then reached back to help pull John up. 

“We can’t have you getting stuck all the way down there, can we?” Sherlock teased.

“Hey, I’m not that short!” John grumbled playfully.

Sherlock giggled and unfastened the latch, then opened the box. Inside he discovered a flare gun inside along with a manila envelope much like the one they found in their bedroom.

He lifted out the gun and found it to be already loaded. He peered curiously down the barrel, causing to John to very firmly take it away from him.

“You don’t look down the barrel of a load gun!” he hissed angrily.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “I wasn’t going to pull the trigger.”

John just gaped at him for a moment, then decided it wasn’t worth arguing. “Fine, but I’m the soldier. I’ll deal with any firearms from now on. Ok?”

Sherlock sighed, “If you must.” Then continued, “I think we’ve reached the end of our puzzle, that gun must be to call for rescue, but before we do that….” he picked up the envelope. “what do you think could be in here?”

John carefully put the gun back into the box and closed the latch, “I’ve no idea. I can’t think of any more secrets that could be revealed.”

“Well, let’s see shall we?” Sherlock opened the envelope and pulled out a couple of pieces of paper. They quickly read the document and discovered it to be a lease agreement for a flat in London, 221b Baker Street, landlady Mrs Hudson. Sherlock smiled fondly at the name. 

“Do you know her?” John asked.

“Oh yes, I helped her a few years ago in Florida, her husband was on death row.”

John jumped in, “And you prevented his execution of course.” 

Sherlock gave him a wide grin, “Oh no, I ensured it.”

John took a second to process, then snorted around his own grin and shook his head fondly.

Sherlock turned his attention back to the lease, “It's a good location, the apartments there are generally very nice.”

“I see that both of our names are on the lease.” John said leaning in to check the details.

“Is that.. is that a problem?” Sherlock bit his lip nervously.

“No. No, no, no. It's perfect. As long as you don't mind.” John replied shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

Sherlock’s eyes widened, “John Watson. Now that I have found you, as long as you will have me, I never intend to let you go.”

John pulled Sherlock down and kissed him tenderly. After a short eternity Sherlock pulled back a few millimetres and murmured, "So. What do you think? Shall we fire the flare?"

John shrugged and smiled, “I had a meal planned for tonight that was going to blow your socks off.”

“My socks?” Sherlock asked raising a mildly confused eyebrow.

John smirked, “Well, I thought we'd start with socks then see what else I can get off.”

“So, tomorrow then.”

“Hmm, we still haven't finished our Bond Movie marathon.”

Sherlock was quick to agree, “Yes, that's very important.” Possibly thinking more of the snuggling on the sofa that watching the films involved than of the actual movies.

They slowly walked hand in hand back up the stairs.

“You've still not finished all those cold cases yet either.”

“No, some of them are being particularly difficult, could take some time.”

“I'm sure we've got enough food left for at least a month.”

“I'd say two,” said Sherlock, “maybe more if we can catch some fish.”

They shared another gentle kiss at the top of the stairs.

“Hmm, I don't think we're in any rush. First one back gets a blow job before dinner?” John said.

Sherlock considered then quickly nodded and shoved John to the ground before running back to the main door followed by John giggling and racing to catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I'd love to hear what you think, so please consider leaving a comment.
> 
> Please go and read the other alternative endings now if you haven't already, and feel free to write your own, I'd love to read them.


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